Robot Unicorn Attack: Starstruck
by TypeManipule'S8E94U
Summary: Zenfelrius, the savior of the zhí'sher-ennor and the seven unicorn nations, must face evil robotic stars, which don't want to open their eyes and see, their eyes are open. A story of destiny, heroism, and unicorns!  I did it for teh lolz. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

The bellow of a thousand warriors erupted into the air. Zenfelrius gazed upon the abattoir unfolding below, his silver eyes filling with crystalline tears.

"No," he whispered to himself. "No, it can't be."

Unicorn after unicorn fell to the blades of the star dervishes, mindless automatons, their only objective, death. They decimated lines of brave unicorns, slicing through their bodies as though they were nothing. Their five points, tipped with heavy spikes of adamantine, knew no sensation, no humanity, only that they must continue spinning. Zenfelrius had never witnessed such an atrocity. The battlefield soon devolved into a swamp of processing fluid and frayed wires. Warriors trampled the remains of their fellows as they attempted to fend off the endless assailants, but to no avail; their bodies soon fell and collected in the decay underfoot.

Fire and magic devastated the landscape of the zhí'sher-ennor valley. The vast forests and grasslands, home of the zhí'sher-ennor, Zenfelrius's people, were all but gone, replaced with denigration and flame. The River of Life ran dry as the chassis of the zhí'sher-ennor began to stack. Zenfelrius could not bear to stand by and watch the annihilation of his own people. He turned and ran, hoping his hooves would carry him in time. He sprinted up the mountainside, only one thought on his mind. Around the spiraling cobbled road, he raced to the cave of the elders, the only unicorns he knew who could possibly stop the tragedy that threatened to overtake the zhí'sher-ennor.

His breath coming in short gasps, he halted outside the cavern wherein dwelt the most powerful unicorns of the age. The guards stood stoically, their eyes glassed over with the monotony of duty.

"What business have you with the elders?" they intoned.

"In a matter of hours, there will be no business," he answered furiously between breaths, "because there will be no elders. Let me pass."

The two sentries looked at each other for a moment, and then parted, allowing Zenfelrius to enter.

Zenfelrius had only ever seen the cave of elders once, but it was just as dazzling as when he was a foal. Iridescent crystal reflected light of every color, at moments glinting the same purple that hung on the tapestries lining the walls. On seven pedestals stood seven unicorns, one for each nation of their world. Zenfelrius took note of Khalea, the leader of the zhí'sher-ennor, and bowed in recognition. She dipped her head in kind.

On the central pedestal loomed the largest and most impressive of the elder unicorns, Ve'ian-Syfet, lord of the pegasi. In a show of grandeur, he tossed back his head and reared onto his hind legs, unfurling his wings and whinnying deeply.

"Zenfelrius of the zhí'sher-ennor," proclaimed Ve'ian-Syfet, "the elders acknowledge you. For what purpose do you seek our counsel?"

In his rage, Zenfelrius abandoned propriety.

"I should think that my purpose would be obvious, lord Ve'ian-Syfet," he snarled.

"Watch your tone, young one," bubbled Athuliu of the hippocampi. "We are not beholden to you. It would do you well to respect our authority."

"Your authority won't be worth the gravel under my hooves in ten minutes!" shouted Zenfelrius indignantly. "My people are dying, slaughtered by forces we've never even imagined, and you're standing here telling me to respect your superiority? How long do you think it'll be before they reach each of your homelands? And after that, the very cave in which we stand?"

"Our dwelling is protected with the most powerful enchantments of the seven nations, young warrior," echoed U'irshidé, shaman-queen of the sanaa'rit. "As for those unicorns who face an untimely end—" her ethereal body wavered here, as much a sign of respect as of sorrow "—there is nothing we can do."

"I refuse to believe that!" shouted Zenfelrius. "You can't sit and watch innocent unicorns die!"

"It pains us as much as it pains you, Zenfelrius," replied Khalea sadly, "but we have no choice. There is still much to assess in this situation. We must consider the variables and act accordingly."

"What variables?" countered Zenfelrius, now starting to pace across the quartz tiles. "You act, you provide aid to your fellows. What could be simpler?"

"You're failing to see the greater picture, dear," sang Enkiha, who took dominion as forest-mother of the rast'shukri. "We don't know what this army's capable of. If we use our powers to stop them now, their numbers might increase tenfold. To act now would be rash." Her kindly face tried to empathize with Zenfelrius, but in his anger, he saw only condescension.

"You don't understand—I can't do this! You ordered me not to enter the battle for a reason. I need to know why."


	2. Chapter 2

For a moment, the elders said nothing. Ve'ian-Syfet looked among his fellows, who seemed as uncertain as he. Enkiha's leaves rustled nervously.

While the others spoke to one another in hushed tones, Kaloté and Hvíwen, who had remained silent for the duration of the affair, alit from their perches and began to circle Zenfelrius slowly. He found this somewhat disconcerting; of all the elders, Kaloté and Hvíwen had always been the quietest, and consequently most disquieting. From appearances alone, the two unicorns seemed antithetical: Kaloté's mane and body were of the deepest black, so dark and rich in its smoky hue that no light dared dance upon its surface, while his opalescent eyes shone with the purest white, beckoning from within the black; Hvíwen's eyes took the same pervading darkness as Kaloté's flesh, her body colored in the same white sheen of his eyes. They were the twin masters of the du'oyō and the a'umun, and they alone could hear the voice of Fate.

"Intriguing," whispered Hvíwen.

"What's intriguing?" asked Zenfelrius.

"That you should be the recurring figure," replied Kaloté amusedly. "Thrice now have you appeared to us."

"Thrice now has Fate cast your visage upon our visions," added Hvíwen, her voice rhythmic and wispy. "The image is clouded, but your countenance is clear."

"The role has yet to be revealed, yet the player is plain to see," agreed Kaloté, his speech adopting the same cadence as Hvíwen's. Then, to his twin: "Consultation may prove the necessary course of action."

"Do you think that wise, to call for aid in such haste?" questioned Hvíwen, more curiosity in her tone than caution.

"If Zenfelrius's words prove true, prudence gives way to survival, sister," responded Kaloté plainly. Hvíwen nodded in acquiescence.

"With the elders' permission, we wish to contact the higher realm," requested Kaloté. Ve'ian-Syfet assented.

"Now, Zenfelrius," began Kaloté, as though he were talking to a foal, "it is vital to this procedure that you relax. Try to clear your head, and once you've purged yourself of thought, focus only on tranquility, on equilibrium."

"We recognize that this is difficult, given the climate," empathized Hvíwen as Zenfelrius started to speak, "but try."

Zenfelrius inhaled deeply, ignoring as best he could the endless scream of battle. He closed his eyes and exhaled, allowing the cogitation that flooded his mind and judgment to escape and fill the air, his cerebrum calm and cool. Kaloté and Hvíwen bowed to one another, allowing naught but the very tips of their spiraling horns to come in contact. The pair closed their eyes and began to hum, a discordant tune at first, but slowly colliding and finally merging into the same vibrato, the rich note filling the cavern. A rippling entity began to glow in their midst, splashing on the walls, filling the air, and finally washing over Hvíwen and Kaloté. It paused, suspended between the two of them, whispering in a thousand voices, none quite discernible, and yet all with a singular, abstract message.

"I open my eyes to Fate," chanted Kaloté.

"That your vision be true," echoed Hvíwen.

"I come naked, without guile," continued Kaloté, his voice deeper, broader.

"Leave your fear, come forth," sighed Hvíwen, growing softer.

"In winter's depths."

"Lest our efforts be for naught."

"Cling to the shade."

"Spurn all ignominy."

As Hvíwen and Kaloté opened their eyes, the swirling essence entered them, causing the two to gasp and filling the chamber with twisting shafts of light. The du'oyō and a'umun spoke with the same strange, reverberating words, emanating from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"Forever shall we remain as one, together a fantasy, and in peace, peace; yea, that our hearts be open."

Their eyes flashed, and the spirit that had entered them vanished instantly. Hvíwen and Kaloté began to pant rapidly.

"Fate has spoken," gasped Hvíwen.

"Zenfelrius is the answer," wheezed Kaloté.

The elders began to murmur to one another, phrases of "What does this mean?" and "How can this be?" reaching Zenfelrius's ears. Ve'ian-Syfet appeared not to take notice, however, and pondered their words deeply. The clamor among the others rose to a din until finally, with a flourish of his ivory mane, the pegasus lord called for silence, and the room was still.

"Hvíwen, Kaloté," he addressed each with a nod, "if what you say is true, Fate has indeed claimed this warrior as champion for her cause. We must bestow upon him the Duhid'Sintîsk. I realize that this course of action may appear foolhardy, but I assure you, Zenfelrius is our only hope.

"Young one," continued Ve'ian-Syfet, now facing Zenfelrius, "time is our most valuable possession, and it's running thin. You, my child, are the key to preserving it. Do you accept the task we lay before you?"

"I. . . ." Zenfelrius hesitated, the word "yes" choked in his throat. He looked into the faces of the unicorns before him, earnest and pleading; he thought of his friends, most of whom had been killed mercilessly; and he thought of his world, his home, slowly burned and hacked away. With righteous tears in his eyes, he looked up at the council.

"I'm ready."


End file.
